Stay
by Eyes Behind the Mask
Summary: Rachel hasn't forgotten about Michael, and knows he'll return for her. The waiting is so hard though, and Halloween is coming... Follow up to 'Snows in Hell'. For KLeslie.


I sense the darkness clearer,

I feel a presence here.

A change in the weather,

I love this time of year.

Blue Oyster Cult

* * *

"I knew you'd be back," Rachel smirked, beckoning to him seductively. She suddenly laid back on the bed and began to peel her jeans off, kicking them off the tip of her foot the floor. Looking up at him from her position on the bed to see that he was still standing in the same place, still hard cock sticking out in front of him, she then added, "You have no idea how badly I want more of that cock of yours."

At that, she proceeded to hook both of her legs back, fully revealing her pussy for him. So wet and hungry for that cock of his. She wasn't sure why he was being so shy still, but she had a feeling that they would have the whole night to themselves. It briefly occurred to her at that moment too that the door wasn't even locked, but that was far from being a concern for her.

Tilting his head at her at first, he then finally walked closer to the bed, keeping his eyes on her, until he was standing right in front of her, right in front of her exposed and ready pussy. She looked up at him still, waiting, and he stood there over her, staring down. Though she couldn't see his eyes, he didn't seem focused on her face but rather her tits still contained in her bra and then she could have sworn that his head tilted down just slightly, focusing on her dripping, glistening pussy.

Rachel moved a hand to her clit to rub it again before tracing a couple fingers along the lips and said, "See anything you like?" She teased, groaning softly as she ghosted her fingers up her inner thigh.

Moving his own hand to his cock, he began to lean in, letting the swollen, red head of his cock brush against her pussy lips. Her body shivered at that mere touch, her juices smearing against that fat head.

He started to lean in further, her eyes closing again as his hot, pulsing cock head spread her pussy lips open, gently pressing against her fingers still at her pussy lips. She groaned slightly and twitched as the head popped into the opening of her wet pussy, which was getting even wetter. He held just the head in and she clamped on it, able to feel the pulsing even more and the thick ridge separating the head and the shaft.

"More," she half said, half moaned, eyes still closed. "Give me more. Give me all of it."

There was no more pausing on his part, no more waiting for her. He leaned in even further, his cock head pushing further into her pussy followed by that thick shaft. Her pussy juices dripped out around his cock and she let out more, louder groans, her body twitching every so often. He moved slowly but steadily, his cock disappearing inside her pussy inch by inch.

It seemed never-ending to her and right as she felt his big, hot balls press against her ass, her eyes snapped open and she involuntarily and rather loudly moaned, "Oh fuck!"

She couldn't believe how full his cock made her feel. She couldn't help clamping down on his fat, pulsing cock, her pussy pulsing just as much. As he slowly pulled back, only to thrust his cock all the way back in, she began to rub at her clit, groaning even more, getting even wetter. He slowly picked up the speed of his thrusting, his own breathing getting heavier again.

"Don't stop!" she moaned, rubbing her clit faster while trying to keep her legs spread back. "Oh fuck, please don't stop!"

Her walls were butterflying around the thick, veiny cock as it pounded her pussy faster and harder. Over her continuous moans, mixed with occasional gasps, she could hear the bed squeaking. And then she let out a squeal as she came for the first time that night, her juices gushing over his pulsing, still thrusting cock. He didn't let up either as she squealed in between heavy breaths, rubbing her clit rapidly, her toes tightly curled, her whole body shaking on his fat cock.

"Oh my god, it feels so fucking good!" she managed to squeal out.

And it was true, her pussy still tingled as her orgasm subsided. Suddenly wrapping her legs around his midsection, she pulled him closer. He couldn't pull back as far with his thrusts in that position, but he was still well on his way to getting another orgasm out of her. Her juices were dripping out even more, a small, wet stain on the bed's covers beneath her. She moved her fingers from her clit to feel his cock as it slid in and out of her. This touch seemed to encourage him to pick up more speed, getting fresh moans out of her.

Placing her hands behind his head, Rachel kissed his latex lips. She at first wondered if she'd made a mistake as he stopped in mid-thrust. He stared down at her, still breathing heavily. With their faces so close, she could just barely make out his eyes in the darkness that his mask cast over them. If she did make a mistake though, it was a good mistake, as he proceeded to plant both of her hands above her head onto the mattress before rocking as fast and especially as hard as he could against her.

She found herself unable to speak, to encourage him along, only able to get out squeaks, squeals, and gasps in between her deep breaths. His cock was pulsing harder as it ground deep inside her twitching, tingling pussy, deeper than anything she'd ever felt. Her body began to shake again as she began to cum again, her legs squeezing around his body, trying to somehow pull him in even further.

Rachel came even harder than before, toes curling again. One hand gripped the covers tightly, the other rubbed at her clit as fast as he was rocking against her, more of her loud moans filling the room. As more of her juices leaked out, she tried to slow him down to catch her breath by clamping the walls of her pussy down against his cock. This proved pointless, other than the increased sensation of his hot, pulsing meat. He refused to slow down, rocking harder instead to compensate for the sudden increase in tightness.

Giving up, she adjusted her legs and added her arms around him as well. Closing her eyes, she figured she might as well ride it out and enjoy what he was giving her, what he was doing to her.

She quickly opened her eyes again when he suddenly stopped and sat up, his massive, hard cock still embedded deep inside of her pussy. Could he not cum again? That seemed unlikely with the way his cock was pulsing. She had no time to wonder what else it could because he grabbed onto her legs with hands and both spread and pushed them back for her before thrusting fast and hard into her pussy again. This got a squeal of surprise out of her. She watched as he looked down, observing his cock slide in and out of her dripping pussy.

Rachel realized that with her legs pushed back like they were, it caused her hips to also raise up off the mattress slightly and if she leaned her head forward, she could also watch his hard cock work on her pussy. Feeling turned on even further at this sight, she moved both of her hands back down to her pussy to rub at her clit again, fingers brushing against his sliding cock again. His breathing was getting even heavier and she knew he was about to cum again. She could feel his hot balls press against her with each thrust, boiling with his seed.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, keep going! Please, oh fuck, please!" she screamed out, rubbing her clit as fast as she possibly could, so close again herself. She kept rubbing her clit, moaning louder than before, certain that anyone who might be in the rooms next to hers could hear and she didn't care at all...

* * *

October 6th, 1989

The calendar at the nurse's station remained, although a piece of white paper now covered the smiling jack o' lantern. While it had been suggested that perhaps censoring any trace of the offending season might quell the patient in room 7C, it had no effect. Rachel's outbursts only grew in frequency, as if some primal part of her was aware of the month and she didn't need any outward reminders of it.

Jennifer sat like a statue on her bed oblivious to the noise, staring at the wall intently as if she were watching a particularly interesting show. If Rachel's loud performance had any effect whatsoever on her, she had never given the slightest sign. She merely sat, and stared as she always had.

Someone else was staring as well, from the glass viewing pane set in their door. Ed's grin widened as Rachel continued to moan louder, her hips thrusting under the thin coverlet as she worked herself into another orgasm.

"I always feel kind of bad watching her, you know." Jack said, as Ed's hand traveled to his pocket to surreptitiously stroke himself.

"Why? It's in your job description. You're supposed to watch them. And if she's putting on a show, all the better. Definitely makes for a good time. You take what perks you can get around here. God knows the pay and the hours aren't enough to make it worthwhile." Ed grunted, continuing to touch himself through his pants pocket. Jack wrinkled his nose. Ed had told him a while back that he'd slit the pocket lining open on that side for easier access, as if he were proud of himself for thinking of such a thing.

"Yeah, but it's still kind of creepy, Ed. Especially with her. Rubbing one out while she's in there thinking that serial killer is fucking her. Doesn't that gross you out even a little bit?"

"Nah, not really. You forget about it after a while, and just enjoy the action." Ed replied, as Jack turned away in disgust and started off down the hall and out of earshot of Rachel's room. Ed might think the goings on in that room were worth sticking around for, but the thought of that girl imagining that she was fucking a mass murderer just killed any arousal he might have mustered up before for the patient in 7C.

* * *

October 7th, 1989

There was something about Golden Acres' newest arrival that just sat strangely with Rachel. Patients came and went all the time, but this one stood out to her. He'd arrived sometime during the night apparently, and while he seemed very familiar she couldn't for the life of herself place his face. Had he been a former classmate, maybe a clerk at a store she'd frequented? There was nothing spectacular about his features. He wasn't ugly, nor was he devastatingly handsome. He was ordinary, if anything. Nice to look at but not really the type of guy she'd sigh and doodle hearts in her notebook over. No, nothing about the guy stood out really.

But try as she might, Rachel couldn't get him out of her head. She'd overheard his name during group therapy, and while he didn't speak at all she'd found herself paying more attention to him than to anything else in the session.

Beyond his name, she knew nothing about him. She didn't know why he was there, despite the numerous attempts that morning by the therapist to get him engaged in the session he'd never responded. He'd merely sat there, ignoring everyone and everything around him and staring at the wall as if instead of white paint he could see something beyond it.

His silence had continued throughout the day, without him speaking a single word to either patient or staff. Sure, he'd responded to cues to go where directed, but once there he merely sat and made no attempt to interact with anyone. His lunch plate sat untouched, just as his breakfast tray had.

He happened to look over her way just then, those dark eyes settling on her. Rachel looked away then, chiding herself for staring. Trevor looked on for a moment longer, before directing his gaze back across the room onto an orderly.

Part of her felt disloyal for checking out the guy. She loved Michael. But what could she possibly be to him? She had been in this place for so long it seemed, and he had never come for her. It stung, certainly. For months she had waited, until she'd finally given up hope. Perhaps she meant nothing to him, and it had been all in her mind just as her therapist had insisted every time the topic came up. If he cared at all for her he'd have somehow managed to come for her by now. If anything maybe she'd just been a novelty, a distraction, something he'd grown tired of and now gave no thought to.

Her eyes drifted back over to Trevor, that funny feeling taking hold in her tummy again.

After lunch there was yet another group therapy session, art this time. Again, he not only didn't speak, his easel remained as blank as the expression on his face. Like pale, unmoving stone.

Almost mask-like.

Again she felt that strange flutter.

* * *

Later that afternoon in the fenced off yard they shuffled around in for their 'free time' she'd approached him.

"I saw you today, during group." Trevor didn't respond, predictably. It didn't dissuade her though.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Rachel ventured, stepping closer. He seemed so fucking familiar, and it was driving her crazy. It wasn't his looks, she'd decided, outside of those dark, piercing eyes. It was something else. His mannerisms reminded her so much of Michael that she felt that hunger start to grow in the pit of her stomach. Trevor merely tilted his head in response to her question, and the memories it stirred up in her drove her over the edge.

That was all she needed to move forward, dropping to her knees and grabbing for the elastic waistband of his grey scrub pants. She wrapped her small hand around his cock, and began to stroke it to life. Trevor made no move to stop her, only looking down to watch her as she opened her mouth to quickly take it in. She closed her mouth around the thick head and closed her eyes at the same time, sucking at the head, her tongue flicking gently against it.

Her hand continued stroking at the shaft, picking up some speed as she sucked harder at his cock head, tasting the first of his pre cum, the tip of her tongue digging at the slit to get more. Her eyes still closed, she could hear his breathing getting a little heavier, prompting her to try taking in more of his cock. Her lips slid down the shaft slowly, struggling to get even halfway down. Her wet tongue was pressed down underneath his thick, pulsing shaft, wriggling quickly on the hot flesh.

Keeping her one hand wrapped around his shaft, she used her other hand to reach back into the scrub pants, gently grabbing his balls. They were huge, very much in proportion with his cock. She wouldn't object to trying to suck on them too, but for the time being, she wanted only his cock in her mouth.

Feeling his body twitch when she touched his balls, Rachel opened her eyes to look up at him again, at least as up as she could with his cock stuffed into her mouth. Trevor was still looking down at her, watching her work. His chest was heaving slightly now, his breathing heavier. Still looking at him in return, she slid her mouth a little more along his cock, taking in his meat until she was close to gagging on it, afraid to go all the way to that point.

Happy that she managed to at least get over half of his cock into her mouth, she slowly pulled back, leaving his cock moist with her saliva. Focusing at that big head, she sucked at it even harder, her tongue rubbing all over it now and running around the edge of the ridge. Squeezing at his balls a little harder, she stroked her hand faster and faster along his shaft, causing his breathing to get heavier. His cock started pulsing a lot harder.

Rachel knew he was close to cumming and the excitement of that moment caused her to suck even harder, trying to urge him along. It didn't take much. With a grunt, he released into Rachel's mouth as she quickly flattened her tongue to allow it to go down her throat, a few more spurts following that initial burst. Rachel could feel his seed pumping up the shaft as she continued stroking away at it. As she swallowed the last spurt, she began to dig her tongue into the slit again, scooping out a few more drops of cum.

Slowing her stroking on his still twitching meat, Rachel pulled her mouth off of the head and licked at her lips before grinning up at him.

His breathing slowly returned to normal, his cock still quite hard in her slow, gentle hand. As she sat there on her knees in front of him, she realized just how sopping wet the front of her panties had become. Rachel let go of his balls to feel the warm wetness, rubbing gently at her clit. She was glad he was still hard because she really wanted more from him. She needed more, but as she grabbed for her own waistband to drop her pants a loud voice rang out behind her, jarring her back to reality.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing!? Stop that, get away from him!" She felt strong hands grab her from behind, hauling her up and to her feet, dragging her away from Trevor.

Rachel was still so wrapped up in what she'd just done that she didn't even bother to fight as the orderly pulled her across the yard, all the while scolding her and reminding her that this incident would be recorded on her file as yet another strike against her. Another one of those, Jack warned, and she would be finding herself with plenty of free time to sit in her room since she'd be denied any activities outside of mandatory therapy sessions.

Rachel found herself not caring one bit however. It had totally been worth it.

If only for a moment, things had felt real, and it felt right. Later that afternoon in her private session when 'the incident' as the therapist called it came up, that was all she'd said. When pressed further, she had no explanation beyond that. Her therapist scrawled on her pad nonchalantly, and concluded their meeting by bringing up the idea that maybe, despite breaking the rules, 'the incident' was actually a good thing and a step in the right direction.

After all, she said, if Rachel had been willing to engage another person on such an intimate level, it could mean that maybe she was ready to leave her delusions about a relationship with Michael Myers behind and move forward with her treatment.

Usually combative at any mention of her being delusional about her relationship with Michael, Rachel had nothing to say to that. Instead she found herself just as silent as Trevor.

The earlier threat of being confined to her room had also turned out to be unnecessary. Rachel had gone on her own, and had remained there for the rest of the afternoon, skipping dinner. What her therapist had said about moving on had gotten to her. She needed to think.

* * *

It had been an unusually quiet night and the night nurse been using it to her fullest advantage, tackling the huge stack of papers on her desk. She'd gotten through the worst of it and was in the middle of neatly organizing it into bins when the phone rang, startling her.

"Golden Acres," She answered, hoping it wasn't a request for another emergency transfer. There seemed to be more of them all the time now, and they rarely ever went smoothly. Why did they always seem to wait until the attending physician was out of pocket, leaving her to page a sleeping doctor to come in and sign off on the transfer forms?

"Good evening, this is Detective Stidwell with the Plainview County Sheriff's Department. I'm calling about a patient you have in your facility, a man going by the name of Trevor Walker."

"Yes, Trevor Walker is a patient here. Brought in yesterday night, in fact. I have his file right here." She reached for the file, and flipped it open, scanning his intake sheet. "Yes, I have here that he was admitted at 11:37 on Tuesday night. Dr. Lynwood signed off on it himself." Rather grouchily, she thought to herself. The man was a straight up asshole when disturbed that late at night.

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment she thought maybe the call had been disconnected. She was just about to hang up when he spoke, somewhat haltingly.

"Ma'am, there has been a mistake. Walker was found dead just outside the county line a few hours ago. His throat was crushed, the body was stripped. We've just identified him via fingerprints. He had a rap sheet for some petty larceny when he was a young teen, been in and out of jail a couple of times since. The man you have there cannot be Trevor Walker."

"He was carrying ID when they found him..." The nurse faltered, unable to believe what the officer was telling her. "The paperwork was all filled out, and everything. One of your deputies brought him in, for god's sake! Now you are trying to tell me that Trevor Walker is dead, and this patient is someone else entirely?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I am telling you. The man you have there is not Trevor Walker." The detective's voice continued to crackle over the phone line hauntingly as she frantically paged Dr. Lynwood. He'd be angry of course, but based on what the detective was telling her now, he'd better get his ass up and help sort this mess out.

For the first time since she'd been brought to Golden Acres, she didn't dream of Michael. Instead Rachel tossed under her sheets, unable to sleep despite the medication passed around before lights out. She couldn't get the encounter with Trevor in the yard earlier that day out of her head. Part of her felt terrible, like she'd betrayed Michael by doing that with him, and another part of her wanted even more.

She'd been here for what seemed like forever, and he'd never come for her. Maybe she really was nothing more than a toy to him, something to put aside when he'd tired of her. Maybe her therapist had been right for once, and it was time to move on. Maybe she was delusional.

The thought stung, and she rolled onto her side to face the wall as the tears came to her eyes. That really was it. He didn't care, and he wasn't going to come. She'd be here forever, and she'd never see him again. Now, thanks to what she'd done with Trevor, she couldn't even seem to slip into the one escape she had here.

Her dreams of Michael.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and staring at the wall desperately trying to put it all out of her mind when she heard a loud crash down the hall, followed closely by a piercing scream. Rachel bolted upright, turning her head to the door. There was more screaming, followed by an ominous silence. It chilled her blood. Golden Acres wasn't always the most quiet place, even at night, and patient outbursts were not uncommon but there was something wrong here.

She heard another shriek, closer now to their room, followed by a sputtering, guttural groan that sounded for all the world like someone choking on their own blood.

That did it. Rachel was up in an instant, creeping to the doorway and peering out. Another loud crash that sounded like a supply cart being overturned made her almost jump out of her skin.

Something was terribly wrong, and it was headed this way.

"Jennifer, come on! We've got to get out of here!" Rachel hissed, grabbing the girl by her arm and tugging, trying to urge her up off the bed and out the door before the maniac could reach their room. She could hear screaming again, louder, closer, and Rachel knew whoever it was out there slaughtering the staff couldn't be too far away. "Come on, Jennifer! Fuck!" She shouted in frustration.

Jennifer suddenly turned, her wide brown eyes fixing on Rachel for the first time since she'd come to this place.

"It's him." Jennifer said quietly, before turning back and directing her attention back to the blank white wall, ignoring Rachel's panicked whimpering.

There was no way she could drag the girl out, and there was nothing to do but make a break for it now. Hopefully Jennifer would be spared, but there was no time to wonder about that now. Rachel bolted from the room, fleeing in the opposite direction down the hall. Jennifer paid no mind whatsoever, still gazing at the wall intently, a small smile forming on her lips.

As she rounded the corner she slammed right into Ed, falling flat on the linoleum floor from the impact. He stumbled a bit, eyes darting from Rachel to the commotion down the hall.

"What the hell is going on down there? Huh?" Ed hauled Rachel up to her feet, gripping tight at her shoulders as he continued to quiz her. She shrieked and attempted to wrestle out of his grip, but he held firm.

"You aren't going anywhere, sweetcheeks. One of those nutcases decides to throw a fit and you think you're gonna make a break for it? Not on my watch." Rachel thrashed in his grip, eyes wide with fear.

"You idiot! He's killing them!" She screamed, kicking at Ed's shins in an attempt to break out of his grasp. "Let me go, he's killing them!" Giving the girl an incredulous look at first, he began to laugh.

"Oh, this shit again? Your imaginary mass-murdering boyfriend came to pay you a visit? What's with the screaming then? I thought you liked that. I know I do..." Ed snickered, reaching for her left breast suddenly and squeezing hard. Rachel screamed harder, continuing to kick to no avail.

"Let's go back to your room, sunshine. I got something that'll calm you right down. My own special injection." He leered, dragging the thrashing girl back down the hall towards her room. Rachel swore, and kicked the entire way, but she was no match for the iron grip Jack had on her arm.

Ed rounded the corner, still dragging a screaming Rachel along with him, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey man, what the fuck? Get back to your room, what is it with you loonies tonight?"

Trevor stood in the hall, silent, those dark eyes leveled coldly on Ed as Rachel continued to claw and kick at him.

"I said go back to your fucking room! Are you as fucking deaf as you are crazy!? Go on, now, before I bust your head wide open!" Trevor made no move to retreat, still standing in the middle of the hall like a grim statue. Swearing, Ed shoved Rachel away, reaching for the baton he wore on his right side.

"That's it, you crazy motherfucker, you're gonna get it now." Ed whipped the baton out to his side, the metal telescoping out with a smooth click. "If all those crazy pills they shove down your throat won't do the trick, then a little stick time might work wonders."

Rachel cried out as she struck the hard floor, while Ed advanced on Trevor, clearly intending to beat him down right here in the hallway. This was her chance to escape, but she couldn't leave Trevor here with that crazy orderly.

"Leave him alone, you piece of shit!" She yelled, scrambling up to her feet and charging at Ed. He whipped around furiously, baton out and ready to swing at her when Trevor was right behind him, grabbing his right arm and jerking it back with a sickening crack. Ed screamed, the baton falling to the ground with a clatter as Trevor continued to twist his now obviously broken arm. Bright red was blossoming out onto his uniform, the snapped bone piercing his skin and jutting out like a broken branch. Trevor knelt then, reaching for the dropped baton.

Rachel stood frozen in her tracks, only able to watch in silent horror as Trevor took the weapon and thrust it into Ed's screaming mouth, giving to a cruel twist. The metal baton tore through his lower jaw, and then entered his throat, sending a crimson jet of blood into the air. Ed collapsed, blood rapidly pooling beneath him on the linoleum floor. He gave a few twitches and was still, obviously dead.

Trevor stepped over Ed's body, not a shred of emotion on his face. It was as blank as ever, and again Rachel felt a strange stirring of recognition. She had no time to process it however, because just then Jack rounded the corner, drawn by all the screaming.

"What's going on? What's all that yelling? Ed?! What the fuck!?" Jack shouted, eyes bugging out at the grotesque scene before him. He stumbled back a bit, clearly in shock as he fumbled for his radio. Trevor started towards him with surprising speed and grace, his hand latching around Jacks's throat like a vice. Jack clawed at his hand as Trevor lifted him up slightly before giving his neck a hard jerk. There was a loud crack, Jack going limp as Trevor let him go. He crumpled on the ground, now just as dead as his former coworker Ed.

Rachel stared at the two dead men before her, too shocked to move now. He'd killed them both with an almost inhuman ease, like it was nothing new to him.

Without a word Trevor started towards her, grasping her hand and pulling her back down the hall, heading for the fire exit. The door squealed and wailed it's alarm as he forced it open, dragging Rachel out into the night.

"There's a fence..." She whispered, any fleeting hope for escape she'd had now crushed. They couldn't climb it, it was too high and topped with razor wire. Trevor continued to pull her along however, not daunted in the least.

There was a short row of hedges further down that had been planted in a feeble attempt to make the recreation yard a bit more welcoming, and it was to those hedges they were headed now. Trevor let go of her hand, crouching down and squeezing between two of the hedges only to miraculously reappear on the other side of the fence. Rachel couldn't believe her eyes, what kind of trickery was this? She quickly followed his lead, discovering a small section of the fencing had been cut out by what must have been bolt cutters. Just enough to slip through, and in an instant she was also on the other side of the fence.

Now free of the facility, she hurried off after him into the darkness. The facility was positioned right on the edge of town, almost rural in setting. It was a big selling point, providing the facility's name in fact. Golden Acres, what better place to send your mentally ill relatives to than a relaxing, bucolic setting far out of sight and out of mind? The peaceful surroundings had won over many a family member who'd signed the papers necessary to commit their troublesome kin, trusting that the fresh country air and wholesome atmosphere would do them nothing but good.

They walked for what seemed like hours across fields and dusty county roads, the only light this far out the moon overhead and the very occasional house set off in the distance. She asked him several times where they were going only to be met with silence. Despite her growing fear Rachel followed him, unsure of what was going on here but without many other options at the moment. She was finally out of that horrible place, but was her current situation any more desirable? Was it a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire? She had just watched Trevor brutally murder two people right before her eyes, and while it was well deserved it was still murder. And now she was alone in the dark with him headed to god only knew where.

She could see the outline of an old barn off in the distance, and guessed that was where they were headed. A thousand possibilities began to run through her head, most of them unpleasant.

Was he intending to kill her next? Stash her bloodied, mangled corpse up into the hayloft where no one would find it for years, and then flee into the darkness alone? Rachel began to sweat, despite the chill in the air.

No, surely that was not his intention. It couldn't be. He would have ended her back there and not bothered to bring her along if that were the case.

They drew closer to the barn, it's battered, bleached out sides gleaming like a ghost in the darkness, beckoning them. Maybe Trevor intended for them to hide out there, lay low until the police had come and gone before continuing on their way. No one would think to look here, she was fairly certain. It was too far off the beaten path, and from the looks of it the barn had not been used for years. It was a safe place, and nothing more.

Trevor slunk up to the side of the barn, and began to pry at a thick wooden board serving as a latch. It gave easily enough, and now the barn was open. The old door creaked unhappily on it's rusted hinges, the smell of hay, old leather, iron and dust wafting out. Rachel followed, still hesitant but unsure of what else to do. She'd come this far already.

The barn was full of discarded tack, old farming implements and bales of moldering straw. Moonlight streamed in through a broken window, illuminating it all with it's cold, unfeeling light. Rachel looked around the barn as Trevor purposefully strode to a pile of old milk crates, and began to rummage inside.

The barn gave her the creeps, but at least they were not out in the open anymore where the police could spot them easily. Trevor must have known about the barn ahead of time, and planned their escape route accordingly. He continued to rifle through the dusty milk crates, as she approached him, laying a hand on his arm.

"What are we going to do now?"

Then she saw it in his hand, glinting wickedly sharp in the dim light. Rachel froze. Trevor fixed his dark eyes on her, as if searching for something within. She began to back away slowly, her heart starting to pound. Trevor. It must have been him all along, he'd been the one to slaughter the staff, and he'd just saved her for last.

"Trevor-" she whispered, her mouth dry with fear, the urge to flee streaming through her body like an electrical current. The fear was too much though, rooting her feet to the ground no matter how hard she urged them to move. He really was going to kill her, out here in this barn, and this would be how it all ended...

Then she heard it. It was quiet, one word spoken in almost a whisper.

"Stay..."

Trevor turned back to reach into the milk crate again, this time producing something white, and rubbery. It looked oddly familiar, like his eyes always had. Rachel squinted in the dim light, suddenly realizing what it was, relief washing over her.

'Trevor' turned back around to face her, the knife in one hand, and that pale mask clutched tightly in the other. And then she understood. He'd come for her, just like she'd always thought he would. He'd come, and taken her away from that terrible place, and now they were together again.

Rachel wrapped her arms around him them, burying her face in his chest. Michael stood quietly in the darkness, the sound of his breathing filling her ears with a comfortable white noise. It was all okay now. He was here, and it was all okay. She didn't know where they'd go from here, or what they would do. And it didn't really matter either, just as long as they were together.

Rachel didn't bother to answer him. She didn't need to. They both already knew that she'd stay, forever.

* * *

I sense the darkness clearer,

I feel a presence here

A change in the weather,

I feel some evil here.

I hear some frightful noises,

I don't go out at night,

Since Bobrow's youngest daughter

Disappeared from sight.

\- Blue Oyster Cult

* * *

The End.


End file.
